Page 3 of Curvy Hostage Mate
“We’re not going in half-assed,” Declan repeated. “We need this to go well so we can guarantee a smooth mission.”
“Kendra’s going to be pissed,” Will muttered.
“Tell her to be pissed at me. I can endure it if it means getting Morgan out safely later,” Declan replied.
I nodded. The only thing that mattered was making sure we extracted her safely. We could worry about Cain later. Even my own instincts balked at the thought of leaving Morgan behind if we came across her.
I shoved that thought from my mind. It wouldn’t matter. There was no way we would encounter her. This would be a simple mission, in and out.
I tried not to remind myself that we had thought that the last time we stepped into the Underside.
Chapter 2 - Morgan
I sat on the floor next to where Cain sat on his throne. He stared down at the two men in front of him. He shifted forward slightly, tugging the chain attached to my collar with the movement. I adjusted my position on the soft throw pillow beneath me.
“My men informed me that you tried to walk out of one of the brothels without paying for the privilege of getting to spend an hour with one of our alluring slaves there,” Cain said, tilting his head.
“I paid,” said the gruff man with sandy hair, the drunker of the two.
Cain gave a smirk that didn’t reach his eyes, which burned with danger. If I’d had the chance, I would have moved as far away from him as possible. As it was, I couldn’t so much as twitch away, even as I sensed the rising danger simmering in the room.
Glancing at each of the guards standing sentry around the room and noting the uneasy glances they exchanged with one another when they thought their boss wasn’t looking, I guessed they felt similarly to me.
“Is that so?” Cain mused. “In that case, why did all of my men—and the slaves, for that matter—agree you walked out without paying a dime?”
“Those bitches lie,” the guy grumbled.
Cain gave a feral grin that made me want to recoil. “Not to me,” he growled. “And my men certainly do not.”
A long pause as the still-drunk guy seemed to finally start realizing the danger he was wading into. He blinked blearily, then looked at his dark-haired friend as if for guidance.
“We were gonna pay,” he muttered. “I was getting the money when your guys snatched us up.”
“Then where is it?” Cain asked. “Because when my men caught you, you were wandering into a different brothel.”
Another pause.
“All right, then, I can get the money,” the sandy-haired one mumbled.
“So you’re saying you can’t pay?” Cain asked, his voice smooth as silk as he reclined in his chair.
Once again, I shifted in my seat. At the motion, Cain tugged on the chain, pulling me closer to the throne. His hand went to my bare shoulder, caressing it.
“Not exactly,” the dark-haired one said. “We just need to hock some things first.”
Cain’s hand moved from my shoulder to the back of my neck, his fingers tangling in my hair, locking my head in place. I stared straight ahead, trying not to think about how hard he was tugging, almost but not quite to the point of it being painful.
“I believe I made it perfectly clear that anyone who comes to the Underside and so much as attempts to renege on payment would suffer a severe punishment,” he said.
The man snorted and rolled his eyes. His dark-haired friend looked a little more unsettled.
“Yeah, but we all know that’s bull,” the sandy-haired man mumbled, his voice slurred. God, he had to be wasted if he was going on like this.
Cain stilled in his chair. I risked a glance up at him. His blue eyes burned white-hot. Every single guard in the room stilled and backed up, as if wanting to create as much space as possible between themselves and Cain.
“I’m afraid I don’t understand,” Cain said, his voice sounding like poisoned honey.
The sandy-haired man didn’t seem to get the hint. “It’s just to make sure we all stay in line,” he mumbled. “You wouldn’t actually kill paying customers. It’d be bad for business.”
